Vol. 3 - Life & Times Of S. Carter

[jay-z]
Bounce
Uhhh, ha, uhhh, ha
Uhhh, uh-huh-uh-uhhh, uhh, uh-huh
This for my hustlers.. uh-huh
And for the bitches.. yeah

Yo, yo
This is for my niggaz down in houston on candy paint
All my niggaz in the dirty south, miami mayne
All my niggaz in the a-t-l throwin dem bones
All them thugs that send slugs through your clothes; holla at me
It's for the black culture, spanish chicks with the sweet chocha
Spanish cats with the ki's of cocoa
All the haters eat a dick they wanna see you brok-er
I hope the heat stroke ya, the misery is over
All my deep smokers, i hope the leaf choke ya
Hope you'll never be sober i'ma toast to myself
I hope the crist' get me, spiralin into a tizzy
So pissy, swervin on the road dizzy
May god protect my soul, angels walk with me
First do the flow sickly, niggaz is so shifty
The fo'-fo' is like a force field, you won't get me
I brought some folk with me, brooklyn is loc'n with me
What the fuck?

Chorus: juvenile (repeat 2x)

You know, we ride
All day, all night
Pop crist, shoot dice
Fuck hoes, for life

[jay-z]
This is for my chicks that get dough for takin off they clothes
All them money makin honeys that slide down the poles
All my educated chicks who grade is 4.0
All the baby mamas across the globe; aiyyo
I like my women friends feminine
I like my hoes on "x" like eminem.. shit!
I like em bow-legged, never coke-headed
With a dough fetish - the drive to go get it
I like they toes proper, i like they clothes prada
I like they shoes gucci, i like new coochie
I fucked a few groupies, in a few hoopties
I got em iceberg shit they thought i knew snoopy
I cop them roc-a-wear, my mamis dedicated
They never tell me no, the most they said is "not here"
I got they ears studded, both wrists baguetted
I got a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitch
Forget it i'm the don

Chorus

[jay-z]
Wha-what?
This is for my dice shooters, cats doin life
By the time i get this kite to ya, i hope you doin alright
Who got em platinum up? who got the chicks in the truck?
Too much to sit comfortably, they lappin up
Who shit is big pimpin? see the flow different
I drop heavy then i let the four-fifth flip em
I keep rappers talkin to kids, jigga "sixth sense-d" em
Don't mention my name and lames in the same sentence
You see i'm so thorough, take on your whole borough
Be so careful i hear the whistle from the fo'-fo' barrel
Keep the flow hovah; icy neck, cold shoulder
Who click is closest to la costra nostra?
It's "the roc"

Chorus 1.5x

[jay-z]
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is
[jay-z]
No, no, no
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is

[jay-z]
No, no, no, nope
You can't see 'em
Though you got plans to be him
Pay homage if by chance you meet him
In his pants pocket, your advance in pedium
It's the undisputed champ, being
For clique, dough sick, no medicine for us
Competition like i said in the chorus
Let me spell it out for ya
Jay to tha amil
(a to the y stay real fuck how they feel, uh-huh, uh-huh)
That's how we put it down
(uh-huh, uh-huh y'all gon get it now)
Chip off the old block
Resemble my old pops
'cept i tote glocks and open dope spots
And i shut down rap crews
Smack them cats who flash tools
Laugh at fake ballers with bad jewels
I'll tell you once
This is shit you should've of knew
(jigga what?)
Jigga
(jigga who?)
Okay

[jay-z]
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is
[jay-z]
No, no, no
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is

[jay-z]
No, no, no
I'mma roc-a-fella soldier
I thought i told ya
Hustler, nigga move weight like oprah
Drive wide body, twenty-inch big motor
No tints, make no mistake y'all it's hova
I stay sportin' played jordan's before jordan
Verses tight, hooks harder than ken norton
Musically touching you
Truthfully i abuse beats better call bcw
I make my mother move
So i have no problem coming around the old way
Sluggin' you, that's what a thug will do
(thuggin', bust techs, a suspect dangerous, and i love rough sex)
Yeah that's what's up
Even when i'm asleep the gats is up
Paranoid like sunny drive backing up
But i'm from bed-stuy, killa with the flow
Let lead fly from out the four-four, motherfuckers


[jay-z]
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is
[jay-z]
No, no, no
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is

[jay-z]
No, no, no
None i remain at the top like the sun
And i burn whoever come in my chambers of torture
The flame gon' spark ya
Blood stain the tarp
But remains they chalk ya
Don't try to smooth talk us
[amil](jay-z)
You got nothing to offer
But the baby nine
And make ya fine offer
The chick is ill
Even with four-inch heels
No panties on and patricia fields
I get down
Just name the time, the place
We could take it back to vaseline on our face
On a regular day we just gleam up your space
Rock our own line, got our whole team laced
Rw with the torch on my jeans by the waist
Without heat we still gon steam up the place
(amil-lion, jigga man, flawless, here we go)

[jay-z]
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is
[jay-z]
No, no, no
S-dot-carter
Y'all must try harder
Competition is
[amil]
Nada
Ladies scream papa
Niggas can't stop ya
Competition is
[jay-z]
No, no, no

[amil] (jay-z)
(alright yeah)
Would ya love me? (uh-huh, alright)
Would ya hate me? (watch this yo)
I know ya love me (alright)
I know ya hate me (uh clue)
Would ya love me? (brand new duro)
Would ya hate me?
I know ya love me (feel this yo, uh)

[amil]
Uh, uh, uh
See me comin through hair done just a slinging my shit
With something gucci on clinging to my hips
Frontin with the star tech ringing in the whip
Icy ears, neck, fingers for years
Got the show wild with the toes out
Shit i don't fuck with no stingy nigga
I rock prada, chanel, and fendi nigga
What i'mma do with your little blunts and henney nigga?
I'mma major coin with a pretty bentley nigga
Uh my niggas will ride for me
You should see all the things they buy for me
Uh, it's obvious how i spend my time
Around ballers all day don't have to spend a dime
Callin' up room service when it's dinner time
Get my tan on in the tropics in the winter time nigga, uh, uh, uh

[amil] (beanie siegal)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (cuz you know we got shit locked)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (and you know we got shit locked)

[beanie siegal]
Ay yo, we gon' stop this here
Get this clear the general of the roc in here
Beanie siegal hottest thing on the block this year
Keep the ego we been bound to the top ya hear
Forget about it you don't know me yo stop the stares
I've been about it pop you then pop ya peers
You know how i do six coup, top be clear
You know how i play low layer roc-a-wear
Catch siegal in the kitchen balloon in the pie
Y'all from whom to buy
Y'all niggas know if y'all cross mac
Y'all soon to die
Cuz you know i bring heat like june and july
Spit like august
I'm the truth i'm not lying
I'm the reason why jay feel comfortable retiring
I gotta laugh cuz y'all work hard at this shit
Think about yo i just started this shit
Just imagine if i put my heart in this shit
Scary sight y'all niggas feel me right
God damn yo i barely write
But every rhyme be in check like a pair of nikes

[amil] (beanie siegal)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (cuz you know we got shit locked)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (and you know we got shit locked)

[memphis bleek]
Yo, yo, well i'm gold now
Memph man coming of age and i'm grown now
Sittin on chrome now
I'm the youngest gun, i get it on with anyone
I've been in thirty beefs shit i'm barely 21
Guns i hold em like offensive linemen
Bring em back to the streets like a brick on consignment
Interlining of the mark buchanan
Spark two hammers
Memph man gold marks the understanding

[jay-z]
We don't engage in war we elope
Orange juice style beat niggas to a pulp
We broke nigga you just told 3 jokes
Me, biggs, and dame we get some things
See the six dames me and biggs live in the range
Mine's platinum his champagne
Niggas whisper cuz if they talk they gets slain
Y'all's was looking for me on the charts the bricks came
Left the same night in the morning the chicks came
I just use rap to put shit in my name
The death's just a matter of time the hit's been arranged
Contracts signed the shits in your name
Just to lame rap niggas i'm the king
Motherfuck the ring mami kiss the chain
I don't got game to waste on y'all
I'm don't think with my dick or chase my balls
I'm a hustla hit me with an eighth of raw
And when i get on top i'mma blaze all y'all
Keep em laced some more i know you want some things
I drink a lot of water mami come clean
Chicks i pump her then dump her
Cars we got em bumper to bumper
Rap niggas y'all days are numbered
Nobody drop nothin' next summer, yeah

[amil] (beanie siegal)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (cuz you know we got shit locked)
Would ya love me? (if we couldn't cop the drop)
Would ya hate me? (if we couldn't drop the top)
I know ya love me (cuz you know we pop 4 roc)
I know ya hate me (and you know we got shit locked)

[jay-z]
Yeah r-o-c for the 2 triple o
Ya heard me
You are about to witness a dynasty like no other
Beanie siegal, the general
Amil-lion, diana ross of the roc
Memph bleek, young god
Ha, ha
Jigga man, get ya mind right niggas

[jay-z]
Who ever thought young shawn carter would change the game?
Used to rap to the raindrops off my window pane
Duckin the plain cops, pushin indo and 'caine
At the kitchen table late night, no pen, just my brain
First album niggaz love me cause they thought i was poor
Guess i'm successful; industry don't love me no more
Well i'm the same nigga from your corner, bubblin raw
Skully tilted, pants saggin, damn near touchin the floor
And i come with do-rags to your so-called awards
T-shirt with my chain out like fuck y'all all
Retrospect ain't been the same since i lost my dad
He's still alive, but still fuck you, don't cross my path
A&r's had me feelin like moss in the drab
So i turned the league out with "reasonable doubt"
Get your cd's out, let's go, song for song
I'm the illest nigga doin it til y'all prove me wrong
Do you believe?
It's hova the god, uhh, uhh, uhh..

{*sound of a camera taking a picture*}

[jay] millenium flow
[mtv] serena altschul's here live outside the criminal courthouse
[jay] this is {bullshit} y'all
[mtv] in new york city for the first day in the trial of
[jay] i'm gone {*car speeds off*}
[mtv] the state vs. shawn carter, a.k.a. jay-z
[jay] uhh, uh-huh-uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh, uhh
[mtv] whatever the verdict in this trial may be
The effects will undoubtedly be felt worldwide

[jay-z]
Aiyyo, stand forward, 'fore you take notice
Or witness to me killin the track
Testify 'til me spillin the smack
Now they got me for traffickin, racketeerin, audio crack
{hook:} they call me dope man, dope man
I try to tell em i'm where hope, floats man
Ghetto spokes-man
A broke man, approachin the bench with intent
To bury me under the cell, fingered me as the toast man
Evidence stemmin from ninety-six
They say the world ain't recovered from his fix
While they was usin cut i was on some other shit
Gave it to you raw and they just discovered it
Nowaday, the jury got they brow raised
Listenin to testimony about my foul ways
Exhibit a: "reasonable doubt"
They say this was the first thing that turned the peoples out

[mtv] you can feel the tension building here
As an unprecedented number of people have turned out
For what may be the "trial of the century"
{hook}

[jay-z]
How come, you label your brand of dope
"volume 1" and spread it through the slums?
Fed it to the young with total disregard
Your honor, the state seeks the maximum charge
And how could you, turn right around
And release a lethal dosage called "volume 2"
And is true you operate the criminal enterprise
Known as roc-a-fella in charge of his meteoric rise?
And do you deny you're responsible for the demise
Of record execs, and do you object?
Your distribution's polygram, and through your connects
Def jam, you pushed over five million soundscan
And not to mention, your co-horts and henchmen
Dame, biggs, lyor, kev' and russell simmons
And we ain't gon' talk about murder, inc.
That just establishes a darker deeper criminal link

[mtv] the state is seeking the maximum penalty
And with the overwhelming amount of evidence
The d.a.'s presented, things aren't looking good
{hook}
[mtv] despite the grim outlook at this point
The rapper has been known to emerge triumphant
In the face of adversity
{hook}
[mtv] jay-z is taking the stand

[jay-z]
Right hand on the bible, left hand in the air
Before i spoke one word, made sure my throat was clear
A-hem, i'm a prisoner of circumstance
Frail nigga, i couldn't much work with my hands
But my mind was strong, i grew where you hold your blacks up
Trap us, expect us not to pick gats up
Where you drop your cracks off by the mack trucks
Destroy our dreams of lawyers and actors
Keep us spiralin, goin backwards
At age nine, saw my first hate crime
Blindfolded, expected to walk a straight line
Mind molded, taught to love you and hate mine
Climbed over it, at a early age, jay shined
Fuck the system at lady justice i blaze nine
Your honor, i no longer kill my people, i raise mine
The soul of mumia in this modern day time

[mtv] while the jury is inside deliberating
Outside the crowd is frozen with anticipation
{hook}
[mtv] well the verdict has just been announced: not guilty!
It is complete pandemonium out here! {hook; serena keeps speaking}
People are cheering and hugging - there he is
Jay-z is exiting the courtroom right now
There is a swarm of cameras surrounding him {*pop bulbs flashing*}
And people are just rushing up to him
Let's try and make our way over there, jay-z! jay-z!
{*sounds of cameras keep flashing*, *music fades*}

[jay-z]
Yeah, i know you just ripped the packaging off your cd
If you like me you readin the credits right now
If you in your car, i don't care if it's winter
I want you to put all your windows down
Zone out, buckle up, let's go

Hello it's hova; that's right young'un the wait is over
The new millineum is upon us, the album is here
Before we get into the shit, let's get a few things clear
Rappers with no relation:
There's "seven degrees of seperation" and i'm kevin bacon
This is the murderer's version
Jigga the shit, even when he rhyme in third person
Hova the god, i should be rappin with turban
Haters can't disturb him, waiters can't serve him
Mike jordan of rap - outside j workin
Now watch how quickly i drop 50
I don't like playin, niggaz can't stick me
Niggaz can not jam me, niggaz can't get me
Slimmy at the rucka wanna leave and spend with me
I consistantly take em out the park like ken griffey
Do you believe? it's hova the god

[pain in da ass]
Makes you think about the people in your life
Then i think about big; what'd he say if he was here
He'd say, "jay, what's it about? what's life about?
If you don't go through as a man's a man"
He'd say, "suck it up, take the fall, do the time
That's what makes you who you are, makes you what you are"
How many years you been around this thing of ours?
Commision, 125 years
What's it about?
It's about rules, parameters
You take the beatin for the friend you don't lay down
You don't betray who you are, what you are
You gotta remember guys like taj, chill, ran, emory
They don't roar, they don't rap
You know why? that's the rules, you don't break them
You was born to be somethin i wasn't even supposed to be.. humble
Okaay so you humble me now, what you got?
You got a war, you got global war
You got a worldwide crime syndicate now
There's no rules, there's no parameters, there's no feelings
There's no feelings for this game
So.. five ten years from now
You're gonna wish there was american commision
Five ten years from now...
They're gonna miss jay-z
Oahhhkayyyyy, i'm reloaded!!!!!

[jay-z]
Uhh, uh uh uh
It's big pimpin baby..
It's big pimpin, spendin g's
Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh..
Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah
Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah..

You know i - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em
Cause i don't fuckin need em
Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good
But i don't fuckin feed em
First time they fuss i'm breezin
Talkin bout, "what's the reasons?"
I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch
Better trust than believe em
In the cut where i keep em
Til i need a nut, til i need to beat the guts
Then it's, beep beep and i'm pickin em up
Let em play with the dick in the truck
Many chicks wanna put jigga fist in cuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head, i'ma break bread
So you can be livin it up? shit i..
Parts with nothin, y'all be frontin
Me give my heart to a woman?
Not for nothin, never happen
I'll be forever mackin
Heart cold as assassins, i got no passion
I got no patience
And i hate waitin..
Hoe get yo' ass in
And let's ri-i-i-i-i-ide.. check em out now
Ri-i-i-i-i-ide, yeah
And let's ri-i-i-i-i-ide.. check em out now
Ri-i-i-i-i-ide, yeah

Chorus one: jay-z

We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin cheese
Check em out now
Big pimpin, on b.l.a.d.'s
We doin.. big pimpin up in n.y.c.
It's just that jigga man, pimp c, and b-u-n b
Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin cheese
We doin - big pimpin, on b.l.a.d.'s
We doin.. big pimpin up in n.y.c.
It's just that jigga man, pimp c, and b-u-n b

[bun b]
Nigga it's the - big southern rap impresario
Comin straight up out the black bar-rio
Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe
Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario
No i can't fuck a scary hoe
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go
Hoes start pointin - they say, "there he go!"
Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit
We don't pull it out over little shit
And if you catch a lick when i spit, then it won't be a little hit
Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab
Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me
And you see us comin down on yo' slab
Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it
But nigga if you hatin i
Then you wait while i get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it
You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on
Now get yo' ass to the back as i'm flyin to the track
Timbaland let me spit my pro's on
Pump it up in the pro-zone
That's the track that we breakin these hoes on
Ain't the track that we flow's on
But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone
We keep hoes crunk like trigger-man
Fo' real it don't get no bigger man
Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip
Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin jigga man, fool

Chorus two: bun b

We be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese
We be.. big pimpin, on b.l.a.d.'s
We be.. big pimpin down in p.a.t.
It's just that jigga man, pimp c, and b-u-n b
Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese
And we be.. big pimpin, on b.l.a.d.'s
Cause we be.. big pimpin in p.a.t.
It's just that jigga man, pimp c, and b-u-n b.. nigga

[pimp c]
Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, nigga i can't fuck witch'all
If i wasn't rappin baby, i would still be ridin mercedes
Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me
Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them texas boys
Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise

Chorus two

[jay-z]
Can't stop it nigga, uh
Mm-hmm, uh-huh, can't stop that
Timbaland uh-huh.. jigga man uh-huh
Yeah.. brook, brook-brooklyn huh?
That's right
Put your motherfuckin hands together, uh-huh
Put your motherfuckin hands together
Yo, can't stop it

Yo..
Yo show closer, j-to-the-a-y-hovah
Place shutter down, who the fuck'll fuck around?
Game spitter, range sitter, bentley driver nigga
Keep a full clip i have to empty out on niggaz
Hoe bagger, no slacker, get this shit jumpin
Like eight blacks, fo' crackers, get yo' ass jumped
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga
Gat buster, ass toucher.. clit licker
Go against jigga yo' ass is dense
I'm about a dollar, what the fuck is 50 cents?
Hot shit, kick a nigga, turn these mics out
My jewelry so bright you can turn these lights out
Hovah's like noah keep two in the truck
I'm like u-haul; every bitch move when i fuck
You move slut, i gotta put two in your butt
I'm everything: the when's, why's, who's, and what
Nigga what?

Chorus: jay-z (repeat 2x w/ minor variations)

Hell no you can't stop it, when it's hot it's hot
My grind, keep me jumpin out of drop to drop
My shine, lose your sight tryin to watch the watch
When there's drama jigga pop, jigga pop, pop

[jay-z]
Seperate myself from the lame, no you can't see me
I'm 6-0-0, you 300 c-e
Give my ladies dick, my young hoes pee-pee
Hits in a row like mj; "hee-hee!"
Since i was waist height, late night, bustin in the clouds
Runnin wild, comin home late, cussin out my mouth
Niggaz said, "bryan leave your cousin in the house"
Everytime we play the dozen, he's buggin out
While y'all was playin yo-yo, i was sittin on low pros
Dippin the po-po, gettin that dough-dough
No, no i ain't stupid i take loot kid
What's in the bank? shoot it
Lose it like i ain't do it
You wanna play jigga nigga what you drank fluid?
Got a full tank now you wanna pull rank?
I clap still, act ill, jigga shoot thee
Give you chest pains, leg sprains absolutely
What?

Chorus

[jay-z]
Thirty-eight revolve like the sun round the earth
Try to play hard get you found round the dirt
Six shell casings found round your shirt
{*cyring*} in surround sound from the hearse
Jigga man, trigger man, hit your man up
Six shots, hit the pole, hit the van up
Kidnap grown folks get them grands up
Timbaland, hot shit, get them hands up

Chorus 2x

[jay-z]
Roc-a-fella
Y'all know what this is
We givin y'all five seconds to put your drinks down
And report to the dance floor immediately
All the bustas we giving y'all five seconds to get close to an exit
It's about to get real ugly in here
Five seconds is up
Let's go!

Throw the hands up (uh, uh, uh)
Throw the hands up (niggaz)
Throw the hands up (bitches)
Throw the hands up (bustas)
Throw the hands up (hustlers)
Throw the hands up (hos)
Throw the hands up (posta's)
Throw the hands up (mac)

[beanie sigel]
You know how mac come through on the club tip
Everybody real deep on that thug shit
Cop cris' spray the club on that thug shit
Cop frisks suits snub in the club quick
Told y'all real high, when i come through
You can try if you want to, you can die if you want to
We hittin whores on the floor, whole crew be wild
Bitch "back that azz up" like juvenile (huh)
When my peeps come through to spend a dime apiece
You know mac come through with a line of freaks
Every bitch on the hit be a 9 at least
We getting head on the floor, while you grinding freaks
Whole squad get it down like this
Whole squad buying rounds of cris
Whole squad got they crowns on wrist
Whole squad got a pound of twist
Whole squad got a pound to spit
In case a clown wanna flip
Mac never slip in a club, told y'all niggas 4/5th in a club
If a nigga wanna draw then the blood it can drip in the club
You know how niggaz get in the club, shit you know how i be
All high in vip, rolling up to b.i.g. (baby)
Niggaz be all liquored up talkin shit
Till' they man gotta come pick them up
Got bitches in the back bouncin to "jigga what"
You got your hands up and i ain't even stick y'all up

Throw the hands up (uh, uh, uh, everybody get it up)
Throw the hands up

[jay-z](amil)
12 am on the way to the club (uh)
1 am dj made it erupt (uh-huh)
2 am now i'm gettin with her (what up?)
3 am now i'm splittin with her (splitting with who?)
4 am at the waffle house (waffle house)
5 am now we at my house (uh)
6 am i be diggin her out (who?)
6:15 i be kickin her out (what?)
7 am i'ma call my friends (uh-huh)
12am we gonna do it again, we gon, we gon, we gonna do it again
(we gonna do it again)

[jay-z]
By the way yo
Yo, how the fuck you gonna talk about mc's on our hill
When we just cop them things homey the chromy wheels
Both arms are chunky the sleeves on chill
Any given times 100 g's in your grill
Don't talk to me bout mc's got skillz
He's alright but he's not real
Jay-z's that deal with seeds in a field
Never fear for war, hug, squeeze that steel
Fuck, you gotta a flow that's cool with me
You gotta lil' dough that cool with me
You gotta little cars little jewelries
But none of y'all motherfuckers could fool with me
You know the wrist frost bit minus two degrees
Bout as blue as the sea the way i manuever the v
Hat cocked can't see his eyes, who could it be?
With that new blue yankee on, who but me?
Niggaz shift two million, then i blew the three
Then i skated the four, before i went on tour
I came back and it's plain
Y'all niggaz ain't rappin the same
Fuck the flow y'all jackin our slang
I seen the same shit happen to kane
Three cuts in your eyebrow tryin to wild out
The game is ours will never foul out
Y'all just better hope we gracefully bow out
Throw your hands up
Niggaz, bitches, bustas, hustlers fuck that
(throw the hands up)

[amil](jay-z)
12 am on the way to the club (uh huh)
1 am bout to shake the butt (uh)
2 am now i'm checkin the mix (ah yeah)
3 am now he buyin me drinks (what you drinkin on)
4 am exit the club (let's go)
5 am think he gettin some butt (that's right)
6 am nigga still ain't bust (what)
6:15 nigga will get up (uh)
7 am gotta tell my friends (ah huh)
12 am i'ma do it again, uh, uh
I'ma do it again
12 am we gonna do it again
(uh, uh let's go)

[jay-z]
12 am on the way to the club
1 am dj made it a rub
2 am now i'm gettin with her
3 am now i'm splittin with her
4 am at the waffle house
5 am now we at my house
6 am i be diggin her out
6:15 i be kickin her out
7 am i'ma call my friends
12 am we gonna do it again, we gon, we gon, we gonna do it again
Let's go

Jigga man, swizz beats
History in the making, part three
Lights out ladies!

Chorus: (2x)

C'mon here baby, you drive me crazy (to all my baby thugs)
Don't want nobody but you my baby (and all my ladies sing)
Hold me tight and call me your lady (say it louder)
Let me scream your name

[jay-z]
I took ya outta jacob's in clusters
Busters they wanted to rush us
Love the way you sparkle when the sun touch ya
When you blush you turn blue if your grade is right
You can light up the whole room, turning day from night
When the summertime is in and the tops are down
With you around my neck we lock the whole block down (that's right)
It took shortsleeves and loungin' to understand
The reason they call you ice, everybody freeze
Ain't a pendant in the sun who can shine like you
And that platinum in the charm who can blind like you
The direct reason why niggas do they crimes they do
I used to snatch the necklace right off them reckless fools
Guess i was jealous that they was so next to you
So i devoted half my time to invest in you
The other half was spent on protecting you
Cause you belong to me, now sing ya song for me
C'mon

Chorus 2x

[jay-z]
I'm often with you so they wonder bout the juice i got
I took you from the projects and an abusive pops
From the bottom to the top
The skateboard to the drop
From the nada to the prada
I got ya like i got ya
From the first time i put you round my neck and locked ya
It was then i knew everywhere i went you'd follow
Soon i spent every dolla you became my habit
Other brothers vice was smoke, mines was carats
The more checks i got the more i laced my crew
The rocks got bigger, watch face got blue
Tricked a little bit, shit i lace my boo
Fuck it, my mistress i laced her too
Cop my jewels twice, like deja vu
If they ever met in the mall, it's ova ya'll
Just the way i do, and either way you win
I mean the thugs love ya when your girl's best friend

Chorus 2x

[jay-z]
And the wedding band you love
In the gold chain you thug
Sometimes you given just because
And the tennis bracelet means they want relations
Know that they wanna fuck the only reason they give you up
In the hands of goldiggas you never enough
Rings, things, just never enough
With me and you together gon shine to the end
I mean the thugs love ya but ya girls best friend

Chorus til end